Crazy Thing Called Love by Ali Parker

Author:Ali Parker [Parker, Ali]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BrixBaxter Publishing
Published: 2020-09-01T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

Peter

Katie handed our boarding passes and passports to the young woman behind the check-in counter at our airline. She had blonde hair pulled back in a severe bun, much like all her coworkers up and down the length of the counter, and she wore one of those oddly shaped old-fashioned flight-attendant hats that had always reminded me of the paper origami hats.

We were successfully checked in and our luggage was weighed, tagged, and sent down the conveyer belt to be loaded onto the plane. When we finished up, Katie and I turned away from the counter and she looked from left to right before decidedly nodding to the left.

“The gates are that way,” she said. “Let’s get through security, and once we’re on the other side, we can grab a coffee or something to eat. Sound good?”

“Sounds good,” I said.

It had been an odd morning for me. When Katie invited me to join her at one of her best friend’s wedding this weekend, I’d jumped at the opportunity. Why wouldn’t I want to go stay in a fancy-ass hotel with the sexiest woman alive and enjoy a luxury wedding of the likes I’d probably never seen?

Then she told me it was in Los Angeles.

That changed things. The excitement in my gut had quickly faded from elation to dread as I realized that this meant I would more than likely have to bite the bullet and go see my father.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see him—or that I did want to see him—but rather, I wanted to bury my head in the sand and pretend that the life I’d always known wasn’t falling apart.

Being on St. John made it a hell of a lot easier to do that. But I knew as soon as I breathed that familiar smoggy Californian air that I would feel like I was home and the crushing weight of the reality I’d run from would return in full force.

I told myself it would be easier because I had Katie with me. However, there was no telling if that would be true or not.

I followed her through the maze of an airport until we reached security. We fell into line behind a family of three with a teenage daughter who looked as unenthused as most sixteen-year-old girls traveling with their parents.

The father wore a Hawaiian shirt and was meticulously going over everything they would have to remove and load into bins for security to scan. After his speech, which lasted a whole three and a half minutes, he asked his daughter if she’d heard him.

She looked up from her phone. “What?”

He started at the beginning and explained it all over again.

The mother sighed tiredly and talked about how badly she needed a drink or five.

Katie flashed me a devilish look over her shoulder. “Drinks sound like a fun idea.”

“It’s ten o’clock in the morning,” I said.

“That’s what mimosas and specialty coffees are for, Peter,” she said like she was talking to a toddler. “We’re on vacation.

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